The Darkest Thoughts Come From Death
by Jacinta Kenobi
Summary: A vignette written from ObiWan's perspective just before his death. AU


The air is cold and yet damp with humidity at the same time, and almost unbelievably heavy against the bare skin of my back. They took my tunic away from me long ago, wanting all blood drawn by their creature to be immediately visible against the wound and streaming down my sweating back as I scream out, my pain expressed in a single sound.  
  
They take perverse, sick pleasure in the pain of others, these people. They are humanoid, but they treat me as if I am an animal and not their equal. I do not know why I should be surprised anymore, though. Everything they have done to my master and myself since we landed has been vile.  
  
My master.Tears well up, and I press my eyes into my knees until they ache fiercely and light flashes behind them. It hurts, but the tears cease, and I give a slow sigh of relief. I can't think about Master. If I do, I will be unable to stop the sobs that are straining against the confines of my chest.  
  
Oh, Master, why do you always have to be the brave, unbreakable Jedi? Why do you have to be so protective? Why couldn't you just allow your death to be quick and painless, not drawn out and horrid?  
  
For me. I know, I know. And of course I appreciate it. I am grateful and yet.angry at the same time. I understand your reasoning. If your death had been either quick and simple or you had not died, my own death would have been much worse, to satisfy their bloodthirstiness.  
  
But somehow, that is no comfort. I would rather my own death be horrid than yours. I know that is how you felt, but it does not ease the ache in my chest that came as I watched you die and was unable to help.  
  
I hear them coming for me, but I no longer care. Perhaps my guilt will leave me with death. And in death, maybe I will be reunited with you. I was always told that at some point death would no longer frighten me. I suppose this is that time. Does that mean this is the right time to die, or that I am selfish in wanting to leave?  
  
Loud, raucous music plays, and I feel shivers start up and down my spine again. The music is made specifically to set the mood..the mood for my death. I always have been susceptible to the emotions played in music, and now that comes out as I fight for control as the music comes to a climax, growing more intense by the second.  
  
It seems I cannot clings to myself tightly enough. I want to feel safe, but curling in a ball does not help my sense of security. Before all this happened, I would have reached out to your presence to help me calm down, but now I know that will only worsen my state.  
  
Memories flood me, how I came to the place I am now. A simple mission. That's all it was supposed to be. However, thinking back, I have to laugh at that. The council would send one of their best Master/Padawan teams to a simple trade dispute? I was stupid enough to believe that?  
  
It seems there were some deep issues here. A deep hatred for Jedi. I don't see why they sent for us though, if that was the case. Perhaps it was a request from a citizen we did not meet, or a Senate ordered intervention, but either way, the welcome we received was not.the best I've ever had.  
  
We were immediately taken into custody by the natives of the planet, and taken to their King. Despite my master's excellent negotiation skills, we were unable to sway the man from his biases towards our kind, and our execution was ordered.  
  
There is a terrifying scream, a death scream, and the loud roar of the crowd, and I struggle to control my revulsion. I'm not sure how much more I can take, this waiting, not knowing. Why can't they just kill me and be done with it?  
  
Because they know they're having this effect on me. Just like they knew killing my master in front of my eyes would undo me.  
  
Master.Why did you have to do it? You knew that you were going to die no matter what you did. I could see it in your eyes. You knew you were outnumbered, outmatched. You looked resigned to your fate, and then you looked to me, smiled sadly, and sent me a quick mental message before shutting off our bond. I will always remember those words, echoing in my head, which was suddenly empty without you.  
  
//Always know that I am proud of you and love you, my padawan. My son.// A mental caress flitting across our bond, and then nothing.  
  
And then it began. Those creatures, flying at you with sharp claws and bared teeth, their intent clear, while the crowd cheered them on. They wanted blood. They wanted carnage. And whatever they didn't get from you, they would extract from me. I knew that as I watched you.  
  
Apparently you did too, as you let the creatures get close enough to claw at you, leaving streaks of blood across your muscled chest, and then scurried out of the way. Again and again, you let them wound you, hardly fighting back, just enough to give the audience a good show. They didn't want you to win, they wanted their money's worth.and you gave it to them.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, your wounds finally began to get to you, the loss of blood making you slower, the wounds becoming deeper. One leg started to refuse to work, and you had to fight it, and then an arm followed.  
  
Finally, with horror, I watched you collapse to the sand, breathing hard, pain etched across your features as you body quickly produced a pool of blood around you, the wounds refusing to clot.  
  
I remember vaguely screaming for you, struggling against the guards that held me, made me stay and watch you die. I heaved against them, knowing your death was coming, the roar of the crowd overcoming my screams of denial, of hatred towards this planet. The creatures pounced towards you, time seeming to slow.and you looked towards me in such sorrow.and then, the force rang painfully within my mind as time resumed its pace and your life was ended. I collapsed to my knees, wailing in grief, knowing you were dead and unable to look.  
  
They didn't even let me grieve. The guards hauled me to my feet and drug me here to await my own death. So, here I sit, listening to the drumbeat of the music get louder, and waiting to join you.  
  
I think I understand your reasons a little better then I did before. Not only were you protecting me, you would not bring shame to the Jedi. If you had killed one of the locals, then their fears would have been justified.  
  
I will do the same. That is one thing I can promise you, master. I will die bravely, as a Jedi. Like you did. You're example shall lead me, and we will bring no shame to the name of the Jedi. 


End file.
